Double Take Read Free Page B

exploration of life within the confines of the community. But that was as far as Anna planned to take it. She had no desire to be exiled out into the English world. She had heard horror stories about other teens, and the mere idea of being cast out like that was unsettling. To be out in that great big world all alone, fending for oneself, exposed to God only knew what . . . no thank you. Anna was not that bored. Better to be content with the morning sun on her back and the smell of the ripe earth, knowing today was pie-making day.
    As Anna pegged the last towel on the line, she wished she hadn’t finished her novel last night. She had read too fast. She should have been able to make it last at least one more day, perhaps even two. Now she wouldn’t get another new book for almost a week. Why hadn’t she considered that instead of selfishly devouring the words as fast as her eyes could move?
    This “guilty pleasure” (a phrase she’d learned from last night’s book) was something Anna and Mamm had shared for more than a year now. While the practice of reading novels was frowned upon by the deacon in their settlement, it was not against the rules, thankfully. However, her father did not approve.
    “Why do you let your daughter read English trash?” her father had asked her mother the first time he’d caught Anna with one of the bright-colored paperbacks.
    “It is not trash,” her mother had patiently responded. “Grace Riehl recommended this book to me. Her Leah has already read it. Grace says it improves her reading skills.” The Riehl family was respected in the community, so her father would not fault them. Still, Anna knew he was not convinced.
    “Is it a true book?” he had demanded as he waved the book in the air.
    “It is a story ,” Mamm had quietly explained.
    “So it is not true.” Her father’s dark beard jutted out even farther, a sign that his stubbornness was kicking in.
    “It is a story,” her mother said again. “A story about life.”
    “But not real, not true,” he insisted.
    Her mother simply shrugged, returning to her darning.
    For the sake of reading these books, Anna decided to step forward. “Jesus Christ told stories,” she offered. “Jesus told stories to teach principles. Is that not right, Daed? Is that not real?”
    His blue eyes grew troubled. “ Ja , ja . What are you saying?”
    “Were Jesus’s stories true?” Anna persisted. “Were his stories real?”
    Her father simply nodded. He reluctantly handed the paperback back to Anna and returned to fixing a harness. Fortunately, that had been the end of that discussion. Just the same, Anna had sewn herself a plain brown removable book cover that she claimed was to protect the books from wear and tear, but was in actuality her way of protecting her father’s eyes from the book covers.
    A few women in the community shared books, but the best resource for “Christian fiction” was found in the general store in the nearby town. Mrs. McCluster kept quite a large rack of these books right next to the kitchen utensils section. To Anna’s delight, new books seemed to arrive with the same regularity as the fresh eggs and produce that Anna’s family delivered to the store. Thanks to money earned from Anna’s sewing plus the reselling of her gently used books, she always made sure she had the funds to purchase a new book or two whenever she got the chance to go to town. Unfortunately, her next trip wouldn’t be until late next week.
    “Anna!” Mamm called from the back porch, waving a white dish towel to get her attention. “Come—come fast!”
    Using one hand to hold the empty wicker basket, Anna used the other to hold up the full skirt of her dress so she could run full speed. Her mother did not usually call with such urgency—not unless something was wrong.
    As Anna sprinted across the dew-dampened grass, she wondered if her mother’s anxiety was the result of the jangling of the telephone Anna had heard while